


Serenade for Three

by Carnivalgirl24



Series: Stammi Vicina [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Cisswap, Established Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, F!Victuuri, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderbending, Injury Recovery, Lesbian Victuuri, Light Angst, Married Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Miscarriage Scare, Post-Canon, Post-Series, Pregnancy, Victor Nikiforov Needs a Hug, Victor Nikiforov-centric, cisflip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 13:59:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17143061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carnivalgirl24/pseuds/Carnivalgirl24
Summary: Genderswap AU. Viktoria has long dreamed of having a baby with Yuri, but she didn't expect it to happen quite as quickly as it did, and neither she nor Yuri are ready to tell the public. All they have to do is get through Skate America 2018 with their secret safe. That, and try and win the thing.





	Serenade for Three

**October 12, 2018**

Viktoria Rodionovna Katsuki (Nikiforova for business) had a Wikipedia biography 15,000 words long, not counting the references and statistics. She had been interviewed by media outlets in five continents, and had over two million followers on Twitter and Instagram. Though she had moved to Japan after retiring from competing, she was a frequent correspondent on Russian sports news and radio, and maintained lucrative sponsorships with multiple international companies.

All of this had taught her a few things about keeping secrets. She had nothing left that would really outrage the public - she'd spent the whole of her teens and early twenties in a gilded cage of reputation, and that tackle-kiss with her student on live TV was pretty old news now that they were married. Nonetheless, there were several examples of things she would have preferred them not to know.

1\. She loved feet. Her wife's in particular. If she was ever feeling tired or sad or generally detached from life's essence, she thought of that humid summer night in Hasetsu when Yuri first let her rub eucalyptus oil into her feet after a long day. Yuri was the only partner Viktoria had ever had who figured out that it wasn't really the scent of eucalyptus that she found erotic.

2\. She once damaged her parents' prized 18th century French armoire by writing the words 'I hate skating' on the back of it with permanent marker. She had been seven years old and had not yet figured out how to talk back to her coach. Her parents moved to London in 2010, and Viktoria had no idea if they had a) kept it as it was, b) had it repaired, or c) sold it (for more than the original price if they found the right buyer). Her coach, Yaroslava, knew nothing.

3\. Somewhere on Christine Giacometti's hard drive (the 'of Shame' was implicit, as much of the content was explicit), there was a video of a 17-year-old Viktoria dancing to the song 'Moskau' by Dschinghis Khan on Christine's parents' dining room table, wearing her ushanka and Team Russia jacket. To this day, whenever Viktoria appeared to need a laugh, or her arrogant side taken down a peg, Christine would sing 'Russland ist ein schönes Land, ahahahaha.'

And as she disembarked with Yuri in Washington for Skate America, half-asleep with alka-seltzer residue on her teeth, Viktoria had on her mind one thing she did _not_ want the public to know.

4\. She was five and a half months pregnant.

 

**September, 2016**

The motherhood plan began on the day Viktoria booked the surgery she needed to repair the back injury that had quietly murdered her competitive career. She had asked Yuri not to accompany her to her meeting at the hospital, a decision she regretted profoundly the moment she turned her back to leave the rink. The first wet and cold snap of the autumn began that day and when Viktoria finally made it back to the apartment in the late afternoon, the air in it was so frigid it felt like yet another medical facility rather than her home.

She hung up her umbrella, took off her sodden summer shoes, and shivered. The scene shifted before her eyes like a lucid dream. Her story with Yuri had never happened; all that had changed since that perfect night in Sochi was that now she lived with constant pain and a tiny but real risk of losing the use of her legs to a surgical complication in a few weeks' time.

Then Makkachin's bark sounded from the kitchen.

'MAKKA!' she called with relief, as if she hadn't seen him for weeks rather than a few hours.

He trotted up to her, tail wagging, and she got onto her knees (slowly, with both hands to steady herself) to give him a tight hug. He resisted.

'Makkachin,' she said firmly, 'I need you to love me.'

He was the only creature on Earth who got to hear her express her feelings so directly. But right now, he was distracted by something new on the floor. He nudged his nose against it, then met Viktoria's eyes with a significant look. It was a small airmail package.

'If it's from my parents, I'm not reading it,' she told him. 'I am miserable enough as it is.'

She had heard from them more in the few months since her injury than in the five years before it. Things were so awkward between them that she often wished they hadn't bothered, and that feeling was even more painful.

She picked it up. It was not from her parents; the address was written in Roman letters, printed by an impeccably neat hand. Inside, stored with great care one on top of the other, were origami animals in soft pastels. When Viktoria lifted them with one hand and arranged them with the other, they formed a wobbly but perfectly intact mobile. Beneath it was and a letter written in Japanese, on paper decorated with little kawaii fruits.

_'Dear Viktoria,_

_We made this mobile for you, and hope that it will bring you good luck and happiness. We miss you and hope you get well soon._

_Axel, Lutz and Loop.'_

Viktoria pictured the three of them at home in Hasetsu, talking in their triplet patter about what they were going to make. They had a big and well-used book of origami in the house, but they probably knew how to fold their favourite animals by heart. Axel's were elephants, Lutz's were frogs, Loop's were rabbits. She pictured them writing the letter - their handwriting was so much neater than hers had been at their age - and then packing the mobile for airmail to Russia. They probably asked their parents to write the address for them and take it to the post office. Had the gift been the triplets' idea, their parents', or Yuri's? All options were equally endearing. Love overwhelmed Viktoria's senses like a favourite song she'd forgotten, and could not have called to mind on her own.

By the time Yuri came home some time later, Viktoria had made up her mind; she would ask Yuri, that evening, if she wanted children. And if she said yes, Viktoria would offer to have one for them.

 

**October 19, 2018**

Though Viktoria was out of Russia, she was keeping Russian traditions with her at this important time in her life. All gifts for the baby had either been 'paid for' with small change or put aside for 'a friend's baby' and nobody, outside of their closest family and friends, would be told about the pregnancy until it was showing. To do otherwise, history told, was asking for bad luck. And as yet it wasn't showing, not exactly. Thanks to her 5'11" height, she looked much like she had five and a half months before, only somewhat overindulged on katsudon, and that was without her trademark trenchcoat on.

Now that she had something to hide, Viktoria was finally beginning to understand how Yuri felt in front of the press. It was the day before the competition, and as they arrived at the rink for private training, a journalist from NBC ambushed them before the automatic doors closed, and Viktoria heard the words 'LEAVE ME ALONE' loudly in her head.

'Yuri Katsuki! Do you have time for a few questions?'

Before Viktoria could say 'No, very busy, thank you for your support!' and whisk them away, something happened. She observed every movement in slow motion, as if witnessing something very beautiful or very terrible. Yuri stopped, broke out in a smile, pivoted around, and approached the journalist herself in two strides, a bounce in her step.

'Sure,' she said. 'I'd love to.'

Even the journalist looked suspicious.

'Well - thank you! How are you feeling about the competition tomorrow?'

'Good, yeah, good. I think the series started well for me and I want to keep that going. I'm still really buzzed about my Olympic medal - I guess it'd be kinda weird if I wasn't, right? - and so I'm hoping to bring that energy into my performances in this competition.'

It was not like Yuri to give such long answers, especially unprovoked.

'Are you in shape?'

'Uh, yeah, I'm OK. Physically I'm doing a lot to take care of myself: diet, gym, training, I won't bore you with the details! And mentally…uh, I'm also feeling very positive about the competition, uh, and everything I have ahead of me…'

Viktoria, standing behind her, placed a hand softly on her shoulder, and felt it tense a little.

'You are the favourite to win,' the journalist said, 'how does that feel?'

'If I won, that'd be terrific of course, and I'm really grateful for all the support from everyone out there. But if not…then…I…I know we will have done everything we could.'

With each word, Viktoria noticed Yuri shuffle a few centimetres to the right, until she was directly in front of Viktoria, blocking her from the photographer's lens.

So that was Yuri's idea. Draw attention away from Viktoria in any way possible, including taking an interview bullet for her. Viktoria, posing her face in a smile for the cameras, reached down and drew her trenchcoat around her abdomen, even though she could not be seen and there was nothing to be seen. From her own point of view, it was becoming impossible to put from her mind. She felt it round and solid resisting every time she bent forward. She felt the peak of the little hill of her abdomen brushing against the fabric of her T-shirt.

She also felt the need to pee for the third time that morning, and gently tugged at Yuri's sleeve.

'We've got to get going! Thank you!' Yuri finished with a flourish, and grabbed Viktoria's hand to steer them towards the rink.

'Got away with that,' she said, as soon as they were alone in the corridor leading to the rink.

'Are you enjoying this?' Viktoria said, slowing her footsteps to semi-consciously indicate she wasn't just being facetious.

Yuri was pale with stimulation. There was already sweat on her neck and under the dim lights her eyes were as dark and full as midnight. In the fridge-like air and narrow walls of the corridor, Viktoria was reminded of all the desperate pre-competition conversations they had had before this; she an introspective, cautious version of herself, reaching to give Yuri's wild and beautiful emotions whatever they seemed to need.

'I _never_ want to tell them,' Yuri said.

Viktoria's introverted side, along with her physical sides that were being pinched by her waistband, begged her to say _You need to tell me what you mean by that!_

Her extroverted side made her eject a short laugh and say, 'OK. Come on, let's go, we're wasting time.'

'I wondered when you two losers were getting here!' Yulya Plisetskaya yelled to them from one end of the rink. The barb was somewhat blunted from being shouted so loud, and how long she had obviously been waiting to say it.

Bekka, who stood a small distance apart from Yuly that also described how she associated herself with this behaviour, raised a gloved hand to them.

'Good to see you too!' Yuri called back. She hurried to a bench to get her skates on. There was a determined set in her jaw that told Viktoria she was either going to perform at her mightiest, and/or approach Yulya for a hug.

Viktoria could not get on the ice herself, as everyone currently in the arena knew her secret and would probably freak out somewhat. More to the point, she had not packed her skates; they were in the back of a cupboard not to be retrieved until 2019. But the ice had raised her, and it demanded a reunion in every country they met in. She approached the entrance of the rink and let the breeze caress her face, and the sparkling expanse of white fill her view. She was not conscious of taking off her coat until she registered that she had to put it down somewhere.

Yuly's gaze dropped. She thrust out her chin, and called out in Russian,

'Hey. Are you sure you're pregnant?'

 

**Midsummer's Day, 2018**

The intention was for Yuri's last season to be a year for trying to conceive. The forums Viktoria had read suggested it could potentially take a long while, especially considering they could not use the traditional method, and combining that with the lethargy and helplessness of new retirement sounded like a one-way ticket to despair for poor Yuri. If they spent Yuri's last year in competition trying, Viktoria had figured she would hopefully get pregnant around late 2018/early 2019, and, assuming it all went well, they could make Yuri's first year of retirement a long babymoon of rest and preparation.

In retrospect, Viktoria realised, her own disappointing retirement had given her an irrational failure mindset. She should have retained the World Champion outlook she'd had in the time before. She wanted something, she aimed for it, she was blindingly successful.

The year was not ending that night but thriving; the air thick and warm, the sky almost white with sun. Back in St Petersburg, in mid-summer the sun literally never set. It was a time and state of mind Viktoria would always associate with belonging. This was their first summer in their married home, seven thousand miles south-east of the old apartment, and here the sun would set eventually, but the day felt just the same.

Viktoria lit a barbecue in the garden and brought out white wine in a bucket of ice. Yuri brought out sparklers for them to light when it got dark, like the nights at the beach with Yulya in that summer of almost-love, the year they first (soberly) met.

'Did you know I was in love with you back then?' Yuri asked Viktoria. She lay on her front in the grass, glancing between Viktoria and their little stone fountain.

'I…was very confused,' Viktoria said, wrinkling her nose at the scent of the fish she was grilling, which was settling oddly inside her. 'Did you know I was in love with you?'

'I didn't dare imagine it,' Yuri said. She took another gulp of wine. It was a hot night, she'd had a long day, and she was the skater with the wine glass heart, so she was on her second while Viktoria had not touched her first.

'Yuri,' Viktoria said, staring down at the food. 'There's something we should talk about.'

'Yeah, I know.' Yuri rolled over and stretched out her feet towards the sky. The eucalyptus oil was still shining on them. 'Viktoria,' - Yuri always called her by her full name when she was speaking to her purely student-to-coach - 'I really want to change that middle combo in my SP. I know I could do it, but I just don't feel good about it. I woke up last night thinking -'

'Of course, Yuri!' Viktoria interrupted. 'I completely understand. You have excellent instincts.'

There was nothing more confusing to a wife than being forcefully complimented. Yuri got up and in one jump forward was cuddling her wife from behind. When Viktoria tilted her head to look at Yuri's expression, she looked as she often did on ordinary evenings: broadly content. But a little confused.

'Everything OK, Vika?' she asked.

Viktoria nodded once. 'I'm fine.' It felt good to have her inner self recognised; it relaxed her even after so many years to get used to it. 'I just wanted to ask - would you like to have a baby next year?'

'You know I would,' Yuri said, snuggling her head in the space between Viktoria's neck and shoulder. Her skin was warm, and her thick hair tickled. 'But if you want to wait longer, I'm OK with that too.'

Viktoria smiled with such ease that she herself would have forgotten how nervous she was, if it weren't for the sick feeling in her stomach. 'Would you like to have one in February next year?'

Yuri drew back. 'Huh? Why February? That's kinda early. Like, you'd have to…'

Viktoria watched Yuri's eyes glaze over as she put it together. Her lips moved up and down with some unspoken words before she spluttered out, 'Is this a dream?'

'No,' Viktoria said. 'I did so many tests, it was like being back in competitions. All of them were positive.'

She was about to turn back to flip over the food, but Yuri took hold of her free hand, as delicately as if it were made of paper. She was not crying - she seemed too deep in thought to do so - but there was a wet sheen in her eyes.

'February?' she said.

'I haven't actually been to a doctor yet,' Viktoria said. 'I just used a website to work out when it would be due. It would be -' She swallowed. 'It _will_ be about the same time as the Cup of Tyrol.'

'The Cup of Tyrol,' Yuri repeated gravely, as if their child's personality and fate would be determined not by the placement of the moon or stars when they were born but that of the skating season.

Neither of them could think what to say next. Viktoria removed the fish from the barbecue and plated it, and Yuri set out some vegetables and rice they'd prepared earlier. Viktoria found she didn't really want to eat the fish, but tested herself with tiny mouthfuls. Yuri was also slow to start, because she would not take her eyes off Viktoria.

'I'm already feeling so bad,' Viktoria said, in the same tone she might have said that Yuri's footwork was looking amazing. Yuri did not seem to hear her.

'There's still seven months till February,' she said, in a small voice.

'Yeah,' Viktoria said, unsure where Yuri was going with this. 'I'm six weeks?'

'You're six weeks along. Oh my God, I'm - I'm not gonna sleep for six weeks.'

'Well, you have to. You're competing.'

Yuri's lips tightened. Silence fell between them again. There was only the gentle sound of water running in the fountain. Viktoria's sense of smell had become more sensitive in her imagination as well as reality, and she recalled the scent of soap, from that night in Barcelona when they'd almost split paths. She had to hope they knew each other's needs better now.

Finally, Yuri said, 'Do you really think we can make this work?'

'Remember your theme?' Viktoria said. 'Fortitude? That is all we need. We have accomplished so much together. We can get through another few competitions.'

Yuri cupped her hands around her wine, and hunched her shoulders as she thought, just as if she needed to keep warm. Viktoria immediately wished she'd said that differently. The series had never been 'another few competitions', not to Yuri.

'Alright,' Yuri said at last, looking back at Viktoria. 'Let's say this. If everything goes well - that is with the series and with the baby - I'll retire after the GPF. So I can be with you for the last two months.'

Viktoria had already thought about this. She anticipated she would need a lot of love, affection, and help assembling the furniture.

'OK.'

Yuri put her plate aside, and crawled across the grass to smooth her hands through Viktoria's hair, so close their noses were almost touching, 'But if anything - anything - goes wrong before that? I'm out.'

Viktoria wanted to argue with that, but found that she couldn't, as a coach or a wife. She nodded, put a hand lightly on Yuri's neck to keep her close, and closed her eyes. She was constantly aware that there were hundreds of factors beyond her control that could wipe out Yuri's career, but she had never until now thought of herself as one of them.

 

**October 18, 2018**

'What do you mean, am I sure?' Viktoria said.

Yuly snickered. 'You don't look it. Are you sure you didn't just get turned on by Katsudon's short programme?'

Viktoria rolled her eyes. 'It's a tall person thing, you would not understand.'

Yuri sidled up next to her and, pausing only to brush her side to regain her attention, flowed onto the ice to warm up.

Yuri's short programme cast her as a female warrior. It was the most fun they had ever had choreographing a skate; they spent hours watching various martial arts and fencing videos and talking to fight choreographers for inspiration, to try to understand how each move expressed honour, strength, courage.

'Once all the way through?' she called to Viktoria once she was warmed up.

'How do you feel about that middle combo?'

'Just watch me,' she said.

Viktoria scrutinised Yuri's every move as she always needed to, but each time the programme drew to a close she withdrew to to let herself observe the overall effect. It was astounding. Every muscle and curve in Yuri's body harmonised with the others and enhanced them, as smoothly if she were a ribbon of silk. She was delicate and yet commanded the senses; she was aloof and yet heart-breakingly sexy. If Yuri Katsuki's erotic appeal really had the power to get her pregnant, Viktoria was sure she'd be having quadruplets, at least.

This was a charming little thought at first, but as the afternoon dragged on Viktoria began to thank Heaven it was just the one baby, as the extra weight in her abdomen started to drag the rest of her muscles in towards it. She tried to focus on holding herself upright, but got distracted coaching Yuri and did not notice she was practically draped over the side of the rink until Yaroslava yelled at her to sit down.

'DO I HAVE TO LOOK AFTER YOU AT YOUR AGE?!'

'I'M FINE,' Viktoria yelled back, annoyed to be distracted from Yuri.

'SIT DOWN, VIKTORIA,' Yuri and Yuly yelled in response.

'I don't know why I practice with you people,' Bekka said, at a normal volume.

By the time they returned to the hotel, they were both exhausted, so they ordered room service. They took out a thick brown winter blanket from the wardrobe to serve for warmth and protection of the white cotton sheets, and switched on their bedside lamps to give the room the relaxing glow a restaurant might have had. American restaurants, with their generous portions and free refills of soft drinks, always gave Yuri a rush of nostalgic hunger. She put away a double hamburger, a pile of fries and a side of beans before Viktoria was halfway through a box of spaghetti and meatballs that seemed to her to be almost infinite.

'Eat this,' she said, passing it to Yuri. 'You need strength for tomorrow.'

Yuri, almost asleep against the headboard, murmured thanks and picked up her fork on autopilot, before suddenly straightening up and yelping 'No! Viktoria?!'

Viktoria moved her hands over her front, though they were alone in the room.

'Shhh. It's OK,' she said. 'I'm not even hungry.'

Yuri thrust the box into Viktoria's chest with both hands, and held her gaze for a long time, at once insisting and yielding.

Viktoria ate the spaghetti. Sitting up in bed in pyjamas, her eyes were as drawn to her bump as her mind was. Yuri's words from earlier came back as loudly as if she were saying them again. _I never want to tell them._

'It is growing, you know,' she said. 'The baby. Mostly in height so far, that's all.'

'I know, Vikochka, I was there at your last sonogram,' Yuri said warmly. 'You know I was taller than my mom by the time I was, like, nine? Our child is gonna be the same.' She paused. 'Taller than her, that is, not taller than me.'

Viktoria laughed softly at the thought. She slid down along the bed and snuggled up against Yuri. 'You know, I keep thinking I'm going to go to sleep one night and wake up with a watermelon.'

Yuri giggled. 'It would be really awkward if that happened tomorrow.'

Viktoria arced her arms over an invisible huge bump. '"I would advise viewers at home that Yuri Katsuki's Eros is extremely powerful. Watch at your own risk."'

'Stop!' Yuri hid her face in her hands, still giggling.

Viktoria leaned in and moved Yuri's hair aside to give a quick kiss to her temple, and said in her ear 'What did you mean when you said you never want to tell them?'

Yuri dropped her hands, and Viktoria moved away, placing both hands on her bump and returning her gaze to it. 'Because,' she continued, 'I don't know if I actually will have a watermelon soon or not but…people are going to notice before long.'

Yuri placed a hand over Viktoria's, and leaned in to look her in the eyes.

'I'm sorry, Vikochka,' she said. 'I love you, I love that you're pregnant, and I don't want you to have to pretend that you're not just so - well, for any reason. I guess…I just…' Her free hand at her side twisted the fabric of her pyjama shorts anxiously. 'I think about our baby constantly. And I think about you constantly. And I think about skating constantly. It's…busy. So it's been really nice to be able to at least try and get it straight in my head without having to report my thoughts to the whole world.'

Their joined hands drew circles around the baby. It was impossible to tell who started it, but they both kept it going. The circles symbolised everything their rings did; protection, good luck, commitment, mindfulness, togetherness.

'I understand,' Viktoria said. 'I don't want to be a magazine exclusive. I want to tell them on our terms, like we did with everyone we've told so far. But we don't have much more time.'

Yuri thought for a moment. 'Let's tell them after the free skate. You think you could come up with a nice way to announce it?

Viktoria smiled. 'Oh. I have lots of ideas.'

 

**August, 2018**

**Phichit**

Yuri told Phichit the very morning Viktoria's pregnancy hit 12 weeks. They were late for practice that day, as there was absolutely no way they could keep such an important conversation concise. And if this wasn't enough, Yuri was also up messaging her at 1am.

'Yuuuuuuri,' Viktoria, herself 99% under the covers, poked her in the side. 'It's bed time for Mr Smartphone.'

Yuri ignored her, so she sat up and peered at the screen.

**Phichit: I can't sleep, I'm so excited.**

**Me: Seriously?**

**Phichit: This is the most exciting thing to ever happen in my entire life. Since the Olympics.**

**Me: Try and relax. There's still a long way to go. Even we're not thinking about it all the time.**

**Phichit: Seriously?**

**Me: No. We have a baby app that does daily updates and I have looked at today's update three times just while talking to you just now.**

**Phichit: Dude! What is it? I'll download it.**

**Me: Do you still have our wedding planning app? I'd love to look at it again.**

 

**Chris**

'I'll have the Porn Star Martini and…Vika, what are you having?'

'A virgin piña colada, please.'

While the bartender set to work, Christine leant her head on her hand, overtly staring at her best friend.

'Is it good news or bad news?'

'Whatever do you mean?' Viktoria said innocently, admiring her poker face in the mirror opposite them.

Chris listed the options on her elegantly manicured fingers. 'Good news - you're pregnant. Bad news - your back's being shitty again. Tragic news - you actually _want_ to drink glorified smoothies.'

Viktoria started in mock offence. 'I would never dishonour Mother Russia in that way. I don't turn down alcohol unless I have a very good reason to.' She took her mocktail and raised it. 'And as it turns out, I have the best reason.'

' _Za_ _tvayou_ _zdarovye_ ' Chris clinked her glass against Viktoria's and smiled her sweetest smile, the same one she had given when Viktoria announced her engagement to Yuri in Barcelona. 'The world is blessed.'

 

**Yuri's family**

It would be hard to name the best kind of Katsuki party, but the spontaneous ones were definitely in the top two. Yuri's parents were so ecstatic to be future grandparents, they brought out a bottle of champagne in a red velvet bag that they'd been given by guests twenty years before. Naturally, that had only been the beginning. Now, all five of them were on sun loungers on the porch at six in the morning, watching the sunrise.

'I'm going shopping later,' Kaa-san whispered to Viktoria, across a snoring Yuri, who had volunteered to do Viktoria's drinking for her. 'What shall I buy our little one?'

Viktoria's respect for Russian tradition was not powerful enough to refuse her mother-in-law's sweet, sleepy face. 'We don't have anything at all yet.'

'I'll see what I can find,' she mused. 'Oh, pillows. Don't leave before I can give you lots of pillows, Vicchan.'

'I thought babies shouldn't have pillows?'

'Not for the baby, for you, when you,' she gestured outwards, 'grow. You'll want them. Trust me.'

Viktoria felt the new sun warm against her skin, and her whole body relaxed. 'I do, Kaa-san.'

 

**Viktoria's family**

'I have an email from Mama. She says she can book me a slot in the same suite where Princess Katherine had the royal babies. Apparently they fill up quickly. Has she forgotten where I live? I couldn't exactly take a taxi, Mama.'

Viktoria thought she had spoken with all the sarcasm of Russia and Britain combined, but Yuri, sweet wife that she was, looked her in the eyes and said 'If that's what you wanted, maybe we could-'

'I don't, solnyshko.'

Yuri nodded. Viktoria returned her attention to her laptop, Yuri to her phone.

'Check it out, they serve champagne,' Yuri said, holding up her screen. 'Do you think it's for the mom giving birth or the partner?'

'I said no, Yuri.'

 

**October 21, 2018**

Yuri's short programme was the strongest of her two performances, described, by multiple independent viewers, with words varying on 'smooth', and 'harmonised' - difficult in a routine with an athletic focus and an explosive musical accompaniment, and exactly what they'd aimed for.

Her free skate was less satisfying, for reasons unrelated to her prowess as an athlete. While her short programme was based on an abstract idea, her free skate was directly inspired by her experiences in 2016: the year Viktoria was injured, Makkachin died, and Yuri won the Grand Prix Final for the first time. The emotional weight of it was a great asset and a dangerous weakness. Viktoria had stood at the rinkside as the performance began, trying to keep her face encouraging while she calculated Yuri's score as best she could. _Beautiful entry, elegant all the way through. Level 4._

At that moment something had fluttered inside her; not her heart, as she often experienced, but their baby. It always responded to this music. _There you are,_ she thought. _I hadn't forgotten you._ She thrust her hands in her pockets and clenched them painfully tight to resist placing her hands over it. _Not just now, I'm working._ She forced her face into a look of absolute professional concentration. She'd never been so grateful for her modelling experience.

It was unlikely Yuri could have picked up on this, but something had distracted her, as she had missed her musical cue to begin her second half, and under-rotated her triple Salchow. Viktoria had lost count of her score, and couldn't estimate the deduction.

But all that disappointment faded pretty quickly, because Yuri won the gold.

The Yuri Katsuki Fever that had begun at the Olympics absorbed the whole stadium and seemingly the whole world that afternoon. Yuri's smile at the medal ceremony was one she had never put on in her younger days; it was a dazzling, starlit, champion's smile. After the ceremony, she circled the ice to waves of cheers and stamping feet from the press and fans, but nowhere was the fire hotter than in Viktoria's heart. When Yuri met her again as she left the rink, she placed her flowers in front of their faces and kissed Viktoria passionately. The cheers got even louder.

'Are we telling them now?' Yuri whispered. Her eyes were wet, and caught the light of the camera flashes.

'Later,' Viktoria mouthed. 'Aren't you enjoying this?'

Instead of replying, Yuri kissed her again.

Viktoria had the perfect tasteful announcement plan. The dress she had bought for the afterparty was a maxi-length beaded tulle dress in midnight blue; not officially a maternity dress, but it had a roomy empire waistline. It was the first item of clothing she had bought for her new body and she was in love with it, as she was with her body, her baby, her wife, and the world. While Yuri was doing her make-up at the dressing table, Viktoria lay on the bed with her phone in one hand and Yuri's medal in the other. She propped herself up on her elbows and smoothed down the dress. There. It was obvious enough.

She could see the Insta post now. Short and sweet: _Our two miracles_. How many likes would it get? Maybe the most she'd ever had. She arched her back and posed the camera.

It happened in slow motion. She felt something tighten underneath her; at first she thought it was the dress, like it was caught somewhere. Then she realised the tension was not in the dress but her actual back, and then, just as if she'd given it a cue, agony, bad old knife-twisting agony, blew up in her lower spine like a petrol fire. She had to throw her hand over her mouth to stop herself from crying out.

She closed her eyes, counted to ten and calmly said, 'Yuri?'

Yuri stood up. Her dress was also full-length, silk with a floor-sweeping silhouette, and rose red. Viktoria had never seen her in red before she bought it. It was a sight the whole world deserved to see. She thought of how best to tell her: _Help me up?; So I might give the party a miss after all; I don't want to scare you, solnyshko, but…_

'What's wrong?' Yuri asked unprompted, kneeling beside her. 'What's happening?'

'It feels like my injury.'

'How bad is it?'

'About seven.'

'You haven't had a seven in years. Are you sure it's your back?'

Viktoria turned her head to the side and took in a deep breath, afraid to admit that no, she was not sure. A moment's silence passed, and Viktoria was about to tell Yuri she could go to the party if she wanted when she heard Yuri speaking on the room's landline.

'Hello, this is Yuri Katsuki from Room 304. Please could you order a cab to take me and my wife to the nearest ER? As soon as possible, please. And, um, please keep this between us, it's a personal matter. Thank you, thank you for your help.'

Yuri crawled onto the bed and lay down beside her, gripping her hand and pressing kisses to her face. Only when the kisses started to feel wet did Viktoria realise she was crying.

'Solnyshko, please don't panic. It's almost certainly just my back. I can go on my own. You need to be at that party, you won the gold -'

'Shhhh…' Yuri said. 'I'm not going anywhere. I told you I wouldn't.'

She moved Viktoria's fringe out of her right eye. The tips of it were wet. _Oh, it's me_ , Viktoria thought. _I'm crying_.

 

**October 22, 2018**

'You have a very healthy baby, Viktoria,' the neurologist said. He was the only neurologist employed by the hospital, and if he'd had to come in from home to see them in the middle of the night, he showed no sign of annoyance. He was also apparently unfamiliar with the huge figure skating competition a few minutes' drive from the hospital, and figure skating in general, as he had not made any reference at all to their work. 'If you're in the States for a while longer, we could try and fit you in for a sonogram, but everything my colleagues said suggests to me your baby is just fine.'

Viktoria looked down at her bump. The beeps the baby's heartbeat had made on the monitor were still playing in her mind. She hoped she would always remember that sound.

'Thank you. Fingers crossed we're OK for now. I have another appointment at home when we get back.'

As it turned out, the cause of the problem was and was not the baby. The weight gain and body changes of the pregnancy and the constant activity of the competition were putting pressure on her lower back, and even the surgery she'd had to her discs could not immunise her from the resulting pain.

'Have you been seeing anyone about your spine at home?'

'Not much. I've moved countries since I had my surgery, and I haven't needed more than a check-up on it in two years.'

'I suggest you do when you get home. You need to plan how you'll manage the pain as your baby keeps growing. You'll also need to factor this into your birth plan.'

'Would massage help?' Yuri piped up. She circled her thumb where she held Viktoria's hand, as if giving a demonstration. She had gone from putting on a silk gown in her warm hotel room, awaiting champagne and adulation, to shivering in an ER, waiting to find out if they were losing their baby, yet the only sign she gave of any internal unease was occasionally staring very hard at the Monet print of a nice harbour scene above the neurologist's head. _When we get home_ , Viktoria thought, _we'll make a huge pile of crepes with chocolate sauce, put on Netflix Dogs and cry for about four solid hours_.

' _Only_ from somebody qualified in prenatal massage,' the neurologist said. 'They'll know how to avoid risk of harm.'

'I'm sure my parents know somebody,' Yuri said with a firm nod.

'Another thing you can start doing now is slowing down,' he told Viktoria. 'You exercise a lot?'

'A little yoga,' Viktoria said. She then glanced down at her toned arms; there was no point in lying by omission. 'And jogging, cycling, dance…swimming…and I'm a figure skating coach, so that's an active job.'

'It's too much. The negative effects are outweighing the benefits.'

'I'm not just doing this for myself. I'm her coach. She's a gold medallist. I have to be on my feet to do my job.'

'When you had your microdiscectomy in 2016, you were still coaching her, and you would have had even less mobility then,' he said.

'You _do_ know who we are!' Viktoria exclaimed.

'Of course. Everyone in Everett follows the skating. Nothing personal but I'm heartbroken Leona only got the bronze. But as I was saying, your coaching?'

'Yaroslava - my colleague in Russia was with her in person at competitions, and I Skyped her pretty much continuously.' Viktoria smoothed her hands over her bump. 'I…guess I'll have to think about that again.'

Something moved at the corner of her eye, and Viktoria noticed that Yuri had finally sunk, and folded in on herself. She was not crying. She was too deep in thought for that.

Their taxi ride back to the hotel was silent and dreadful in the way of all journeys after party hours. They were still very cold in just their dresses and coats, and Viktoria held Yuri's head against her shoulder. The hotel was also almost empty, with only the night receptionist there to give them a brief smile of greeting. They tiptoed to their room, put on all the layers they had, untucked the topsheets of the bed, and got in.

They swapped positions from what they had in the taxi, so Viktoria's head was on Yuri's chest. Yuri held her wife close to her, but still did not say a word.

'Please tell me what you're thinking,' Viktoria said.

'I'm thinking how much I love you.'

'I love you, too,' Viktoria put an arm across her. 'But what else?'

'I checked my phone. Everyone is really freaking out that we weren't at the party.'

'Ah, that's Future Yuri and Vika's problem.'

Yuri did not crack a smile. She averted her eyes, her face blushing pink. 'I'll tell the first journalist I see tomorrow. Get it over with.'

The baby moved again. Viktoria had so many layers on that it felt especially close and safe inside her. She closed her eyes to thank Heaven for it. 'No, Yuri. Let's wait. I know I said we needed to tell them soon, but...'

'No, listen. I promised you,' Yuri whispered, 'that if anything went wrong, I would drop out of the season. So I will. Tomorrow.'

Viktoria reached her arm, down the sheets and across the layers for Yuri's hand, and placed it against her abdomen.

'Imagine you can feel something,' she said.

Just as before, neither of them leading or following, they drew the protective rings around it. The longer they did it, the more tension went out of Yuri's hand.

'Nothing has gone wrong,' Viktoria said. 'You're still in the series. We're still going to have a baby. We just need to keep things quiet a little longer. Be cautious. I think we can do that, can't we?'

And Yuri, who did not yet know that she was going to reveal everything on impulse at a press conference on the last day of the Grand Prix Final, said, 'I'm very good at cautious.'


End file.
